Coney Island,1934. They laughed
when in three layers they were being photographed,
while reading about Hitler, legs bestrewn with sand,
a man lies, next to someone who is drinking. The grand
illusion called the USA isn’t threatened yet,
and no one on the beach is in the least upset
by what inside’s the magazine he’s reading. But before
you know it, sands of time will bring horrific war,
and heads that once were buried in the sand like legs
the sand half covered will be broken like bad eggs.
Inspired Paul Cadmus’s painting “Coney Island,1934” which I saw at the LA County Museum, opposite Linda’s favorite painting there, Willard Sheets’s “Angel’s Flight”.
http: //philip.greenspun.com/images/pcd0222/cadmus-coney-island-58.4.jpg
11/1/09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem